Beware Of Chicken-Novel

The night was beautiful and pure. Almost as beautiful and pure as the sound of clinking coins entering his money purse. It was a busy night as his customers drank and celebrated. The inn, his Jolly Fatty, was jam-packed with people.

Ming Mao was in his element. He poured drinks into cups and slid them down the bar into eager hands. He took orders and carefully labeled them down, checking them off when complete. Three of his employees cooked in the back, and delicately plated the food to be brought to the many hungry mouths. It was handed off to his wife or his daughter. They danced through the tables, setting them down in front of satisfied patrons. The silver flowed freely, as people shouted over the din to be heard.

The backroom door opened. His son marched in, carrying a bundle of forty ducks.

“That's the last of them, father.” he called, as he set about washing his hands again, ready to begin work.

“How did the sale go?” He asked. “They give you trouble this time?”

“No, sir. I did what you taught me. Not a coin more than we were willing to give.”

Ming Mao smiled proudly at his boy. He was doing well. The greatest and largest inn in Rolling Green would be in good hands. All the boy needed was a good woman and he would be set for life.

Ming Mao and his wife were very carefully making that match. His boy deserved only the best!

He smiled out at his domain. The forty tables on the floor and the forty rooms for weary travelers above.

It was nearly booked out.

Thank the Heavens for the Dueling Peaks Tournament. They were a week and a half off by foot from the place, but lots of people passed through on the way.

The end of the year was looking like it would be a party to surpass all parties.

Ming Mao finished pouring another drink, tipping the barrel to get the last of it out. He hummed to himself as he hefted the empty vessel and put it to the side, grabbing another from beneath the counter and replacing the empty one. A new spigot, a quick swing of a hammer, and he was ready to pour again. He nodded to some of his regulars who raised a toast in his direction.

Happy customers, happy coin purse.

His father had said that food and lodging in the same place was the best, and his wisdom was vindicated. What man wanted to walk so far for his meals when there was food right there?

And when there were no travelers? Well, every night there were people to offset the costs.

The door to the inn opened again, and Ming Mao turned to greet his new customer, rubbing his hands together. His new guest had to duck down slightly to get in through the door. He was a huge lad, with rippling muscles and freckles strewn across his face. Probably a farmhand from one of the villages nearby. Ming Mao paused. He also had a silver rabbit stuffed down his shirt and the most magnificent rooster on his shoulder.

Ming Mao frowned. The only animals allowed in his inn were the cats! The Magistrate Fluffy and his kin were friends of the Jolly Fatty, and did their business in designated areas. Other animals needed too much cleaning to be allowed.

But he did not speak up, for the rooster was strange. It wore a fox-fur vest and a silver necklace. The man held the door open and a monkey toddled in after him.

What? What sort of menagerie does this man have?

Ming Mao was so distracted he wasn’t able to approach the man and ask him politely to leave the animals outside, before the man came to the counter where Ming Mao was standing against the back wall, and before the kitchen.

Now that he was closer, Ming Mao realized he looked a bit worse for wear. He had bags under his eyes and his skin seemed a bit pale. He seemed exhausted or as if he was just recovering from a bout of illness. Ming Mao hoped he wasn’t still sick, but he wasn’t coughing or sneezing, so it was probably fine.

The farmhand with the animals opened his mouth to speak before his stomach growled. It was so loud Ming Mao heard it over the din of the restaurant.

The man flushed.

Ming Mao regained his wits and cleared his throat. “I must apologise, sir. The animals will have to be taken outside.”

The man paused and his brow furrowed as he processed what Ming Mao told him. He could practically see the man’s thoughts ponderously moving through his mind.

Was he a dullard or something?

The dullard frowned and turned to rummage in his pocket.

Ming Mao sighed. Just what was he going to bring out? A copper coin to ask him to let the beasts stay, or perhaps some ‘treasure’ that was a pile of junk?

The man put a jade token on the counter. A jade token, with the symbol of the Azure Jade Trading Company upon it.

“That change your mind?” He asked politely.

Ming Mao stared blankly at it. That couldn’t be real, could it?

“One moment, sir.” He picked up the token and walked into the back room to his office, where he kept his papers. Ming Mao rummaged around for a moment, taking out a document from the Azure Jade Trading Company. He compared the seal to the official one the Azure Jade Trading Company had given him.

It was a perfect match.

The man and his animals were swiftly seated.

“Terribly sorry for my rudeness, honoured customer.” Ming Mao simpered. He gestured wildly to his wife and daughter, who immediately approached him. “How may we serve you today?”

“What's the special today?” the man asked, his baggy eyes skimming over his wife and daughter without any thought before looking at Ming Mao again.

The honourable member of the Trading company, who was surely merely tired from a long day conducting business’, eyes drooped and he shook his head. The rabbit in his shirt was fully asleep.

“Roast Duck, on account of the tournament.” Ming Mao replied automatically, bowing his head. “My son will be preparing them personally.”

“Great… great. I’ll take three of those.” The man said, before frowning at the sleeping rabbit. “And... also a bunch of vegetables. Some roasted, some raw. You want anything special, Bi De, Huo Ten?”

The rooster and the monkey both shook their heads.

Ming Mao swallowed as his wife and daughter both stared in shock at the animals. The rooster bowed to them both.

They all beat a hasty retreat.

“Hao.” Ming Mao called for his son. “Only the best.” he commanded his son. “Look over each leaf individually if you have to. Nothing wilted or even funny shaped, do you hear me?”

His son nodded his head seriously.

Ming Mao kept an eye on the man as he went back to getting more drinks for his customers, but he just had his head in his hands and his eyes closed.

The rooster too seemed to be dozing while the small monkey was looking around excitedly, seated on the chair kicking its legs like a toddler.

Soon enough, the spread was finished. Ming Mao and his daughter brought the plates over. The man perked up at their approach and smiled tiredly at him. He fished the rabbit out of his shirt, the little beast squirming and rousing to wakefulness.

The ducks were placed in front of the man. He gestured at the animals for the rest of the plates.

He bowed back awkwardly to the rooster as it accepted his offering. Cultivator. This man was definitely a cultivator.

“Might this unworthy one know your name, honoured customer, and those of your er… companions?”

The man looked up in surprise, before pointing to himself.

“Rou Jin…” His finger swapped to the rest of the animals in order. ”Bi De, Yin, Huo Ten, Miantiao.”

The rooster bowed. The rabbit cocked her head to the side. The monkey waved. And then he tapped his armband—which was not an armband, but a snake, who lifted its head and gave him a nod.

Ming Mao bowed back.

Master Jin, his eyes still drooping, picked up an entire leg of duck. He stuck it in his mouth, bit down, and pulled it out.

All the flesh was gone in a single bite.

Ming Mao swallowed.

“Can... can I get you anything else, Master Jin?” He asked

The man startled mid-bite. His teeth sheared through the duck bone. He considered Ming Mao for a moment as he absently chewed.

“Yeah, actually. I’ve been on a pretty straight road to get to the tournament and I wasn’t sure of the exact time… Can you tell me when it ends?

Ming Mao grimaced at being the bearer of bad news.

“It ends today, honoured customer. In fact, we are just waiting for the announcement of the victor—”

The door to the inn burst open.

“Cai Xiulan defeated Rou Tigu! The match of the century!” The boy shouted, waving around a piece of paper. “Transcribed, from the transmission stones! News directly from Lord Bai Huizong!”

The customers of the inn cheered and eager patrons surged forward, ready to buy a copy.

Master Jin sighed and slumped. “Damn it.”

The rooster clucked forlornly, as if sad to hear the news and the man rubbed its head. “That's what we get for messing with ancient portents of doom. Three days. Of course it wasn’t three days…” His voice was light, but Ming Mao could hear the underlying strain. It wasn’t particularly well hidden.

The man sighed again. The monkey hooted and gestured at the man selling the copies.

Master Jin looked for a brief moment like he was going to stand himself, before collapsing back into his chair. He nodded at the monkey and tossed it a coin.

It eagerly got up and trundled over to the crowd, pushing his way through. The rest of the customers seemed amused at the creature, letting it pass. It held out its coin to the boy.

The rest of the patrons laughed as it received its copy and trundled back.

The monkey placed the paper in between the man and the rooster. Several of his customers were looking over curiously, but Ming Mao made a hand gesture.

Cultivator.

Their eyes widened and they went back to minding their own business.

The rabbit, Yin, prodded at the snake,which slithered off his arm to sit with the rest of the animals.

Master Jin’s face was half a frown, half a smile as he read the paper. He closed his eyes and sighed.

A warm summer breeze flowed into the shop, as the door was blown open slightly. The night outside suddenly seemed even nicer. The perfect temperature. The stars even seemed slightly brighter.

The cultivator absently placed the last of the food into his mouth, then nodded his head and stood up.

“Thanks for the food.” he said, holding out an arm so the monkey could climb onto his back while the other beasts climbed upon him as well.

“You don't need a room for the night?” Min Mao asked.

“Nah. Got a bit of a run ahead of me. Thanks again for the food by the way. I’m feeling a lot better.”

Indeed, the odd cultivator did look invigorated from his meal.

“We may have missed the final match, but let's see if we can make it to that party.” he muttered as he exited the inn and broke into a loping jog.

==================================

Yingwen alighted gently on the ground behind the couple and waited for them to notice. It was the least he could do, allow them one final show of affection before separating them. It was a stroke of luck that the scouts had found them leaving the confines of the sect manor, and so he and Fenxian had been dispatched early.

The surroundings had been cataloged. A pond, in a pavilion. Remote. Out of the way. Surrounded by a high stone wall, and several turns that made it peaceful and private. Nearby the couple were the remains of a meal, and an open box, displaying one of the Qi furnaces the women, Liu Xianghua, had used to interesting effect.

Personally, Yingwen thought it an unacceptable crutch, but she was a cultivator lesser then the Shrouded Mountain Sect, so he could not begrudge her inferiority too much.

He waited a moment longer, hoping that they would stop, and he would not have to interrupt—

Liu Xainghua pulled open his quarry’s shirt and pressed him harder against the wall.

Yingwen cleared his throat politely before things progressed any further.

He stayed still as the woman jerked and threw a knife at him. It whistled past his cheek and stuck into the wall. A polite warning.

“Who dares?” the woman demanded, turning around. Her eyebrows scrunched into a truly furious frown. The man he was looking for simply looked dazed, an idiotic smile on his face.

“Forgive my interruption. This one is Zhou Yingwen, Disciple of the Shrouded Mountain Sect. I have business with the man accompanying you, Young Mistress. Would you be so kind as to hand him over?”

The furious woman paused, her posture becoming more cautious. The boy shook his head, his eyes widening before filling with anger.

“What sort of business?” the woman asked.

“I am afraid I cannot discuss this. No blood needs to be shed tonight if you do not defy the Shrouded Mountain Sect. He shall come with me and that shall be the end of it.”

The woman stared at Yingwen. She looked at the boy that she had been kissing. The boy bit his lip as his eyes stayed focused on Yingwen.

Liu Xianghua’s face went absolutely blank. She turned and kissed the boy on the cheek… then started marching off.

Yingwen raised his eyebrow as she stepped right past him with absolutely no emotion on her blank face. She passed within an arm's reach of him and did nothing. She marched behind him, she did not turn, and simply continued towards her belongings. She bent down and grabbed something from under the seat, then set about collecting her belongings.

“Wise decision.” He said, his gaze still on the boy, who swallowed.

How unfortunate to be abandoned.

“Will you be as wise?” He asked calmly. The boy’s eyes darted around, until they alighted on some bamboo poles, ones that had been left behind by construction workers. He dashed over and kicked one into the air, grabbing it and leveling it at Yingwen.

It wavered uncertainly in the boy’s hands.

Yingwen nodded his head and drew his sword.

“Unwise.” He declared.

Yingwen moved. The boy started in surprise and swung his makeshift staff. The Young Master desired him alive, so he would endeavor not to kill him. Yingwen raised his sword, intending to cut through the wood and follow it up with a strike to the stomach. Non-lethal, though rather painful.

His sword met bamboo. It bit into the wood, but to Yingwen’s surprise did not simply slide through it with ease. In fact, it got stuck. The impact jarred up Yingwen’s arm and he leapt backwards in shock pulling his sword free of the wood, landing near the pond.

He studied his opponent. Such a powerful and quick reinforcement was surprising but just that. Merely surprising. The boy held his ground, seeming to not know how to capitalize on the brief opening. Slow, and clearly unused to truly fighting—

There was a loud clank from behind and the sound of a cord being pulled. Something flew towards him.

Yingwen spun, slashing down and cutting the bundle of cloth that had been thrown at him in half.

The bulging bundle unfurled into a bedroll. One that had been freshly washed and perfumed, with nice blankets.

[Breath of Steam: Heron’s Beak]

He barely managed to get his sword in the way in time as a blow from behind him screamed for his throat. Xianghua smashed into his guard, his blade screeching with the sound of metal on metal.

The impact was equal to his brother disciples. Xianghua, unlike the boy, had no trouble trying to push the opening. They clashed three times with strikes that had both their arms tingling from the force of the blows.

Yingwen’s own blade cracked with lightning. Xianghua grimaced as their swords connected again, and staggered backwards.

“A powerful artifact for these hills, to be able to bridge the gap between realms.” he said conversationally. “But that was foolish.”

“This night was going as planned.” She said calmly and matter of factly. “Things were just getting good. You have ruined it.”

Yingwen glanced at the bedroll. Xong Gou Ren looked at it too and his face went crimson.

The steam billowed up and out of Xinaghua’s mouth, a fierce heron glaring at him. Yingwen sighed. His own Qi formed a snarling hound whose growl sounded like rolling thunder—

“Young Mistress!” a voice called out. “Young Mistress, I’m terribly sorry for interrupting, but there's an urgent message from Cai Xiulan!”

A servant rounded the corner. His eyes widened as he beheld the scene before him. He glanced nervously at their postures. “Uh—”

Yingwen considered the man. Xianghua kept her eyes on him. Yingwen nodded, allowing her to take the man’s report.

The woman grudgingly acknowledged his benevolence.

“I give you permission to read it.” Xianghua stated. Her eyes remained focused on Yingwen. The servant stared at the trio for a moment before fumbling with the seal for a second. He opened the letter and paled.

“The Shrouded Mountain Sect took Tigu, either stay in manor or get out of town. Attempting rescue.” He read out.

A sudden sound permeated the clearing of a far-off explosion and a roar of fury that sounded suspiciously like Yingwen’s Young Master’s voice.

A second, slightly closer shout of outrage sounded. Fenxian’s.

Yingwen’s left eye twitched.

He briefly debated disengaging, but he was committed now. He was a disciple of the Shrouded Mountain Sect. He could handle an Initiate and this woman with her contraption.

And… he didn’t think she would let him run, judging by the murderous aura coming off her. “So, the Shrouded Mountain Sect dares target the friends of Xianghua?” She demanded.

Yingwen wished it didn’t. The Young Master’s plan was foolhardy. Improper. But… orders were orders. He owed everything to the Shrouded Mountain Sect.

“Indeed it does.”

He raced forwards. His sword met Xianghua’s. The furnace on her back shrieked with Qi and steam.

“Gou, get out of here. I’ll handle this, then I will collect my reward later! I shall defeat him shortly.” Her words were full of insulting bravado even as she winced from the aftereffects of Yingwen’s lightning.

But the boy had frozen up.

“You took Tigu?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

His face twisted with rage. His very bones creaked, as he grabbed onto his bamboo stick.

“You hurt my friends?” he asked again. He took a step forward.

Yingwen’s eyes darted to the boy, and his stance adjusted as Gou Ren’s Qi manifested around him. Most Qi was a liquid, or a gas, swirling and ever changing.

This was like stones. The sturdy wall of a castle, compressed, and dense.

Heavy.

The boy who was not a threat suddenly became one.

Gou Ren’s Qi wrapped around him like armor. It spread as it covered his arms and the bamboo pole, churning and solidifying into a heavy armor of stone grey Qi.

The walls around them suddenly seemed firmer. Taller.

Until Gou Ren moved. With a roar, he launched himself at Yingwen. There was no real form or substance. A pure brawler, who simply wound up and tried to hit Yingwen as hard as he could.

Yingwen observed the energy gathering at the end of his staff. A cultivator in the Profound Realm was forced tododge the attack of an Initiate.

He did not negligently deflect it. He did not try to block it.

He moved out of the way, because it was dangerous.

[Break]

The ground shattered. Cracks and rents radiated out from the impact point, crawling up the nearby walls like he had manifested a small earthquake.

The pond water rushed in to fill the new hole. One of the walls crumbled.

Gou Ren’s eyes burned through the dust and the steam, locking on to Yingwen.

==================================

Fenxian smiled around the bar. Their laughter had died down and the entire pub was staring at him in shock.

“Ah, what's the matter? I know it's amazing for a Disciple of the Shrouded Mountain to grace your halls, but really, don’t be such bores!”

There was a sharp intake of breath. The owner of the pub ducked down behind his counter.

“I am Gen Fenxain, disciple of the Shrouded Mountain Sect. I am looking for a man wearing a shirt with that symbol upon it.” he said to the—

To the woman.

Fenxian blinked.

…he was looking for a man, wasn’t he? The woman was gaping at him from where her foot was still planted on the table and her arm outstretched. Her shirt was open a bit, like it didn’t entirely fit. Or as if she had just put it on.

She had a face that was rather fetching. Her eyes were sharp and narrow, with a hit of red color framing them. Almost like a fox. Their ancestral enemies were nothing if not attractive, the foul, tempting, soul-eating wenches. But this wasn’t the Howling Fangs. This was just a pretty woman.

“...was there a man wearing that shirt here?”

“I’m sorry, he just left.” The woman said demurely. Her voice was deep for a woman, but she had no bulge in her throat, and her shirt was open enough that he could see her… assets. A nice size, like a perfect Baozi. “I won this off him in a game of dice and he left to go get more money, and get his clothes back.”

Fenxian frowned heavily, glancing at the group sitting with the woman. They were members of the… Green Blade Sect? The one that the woman with the enormous chest was a part of? The little ants who scurried around her heels.

They all nodded their heads.

“Yeah, he left not too long ago.” another person from a nearby table chimed in. He had a shirt with a rising sun on it. “Went east, you should be able to catch up to him.”

Fenxian considered this.

“Or I could just wait here until he returns.” he stated, his eyes landing on the open seat near the fox-woman.

The pretty girl shrugged, sitting back down. “If he even comes back. The bastard owes me some money. Not a lot, but you know how some men get.” She waved her hand negligently.

The woman had a point. Fenxian sighed. Here he was hoping for a fight and the target wasn’t even here.

Well, this was boring.

“East, you said?” he demanded

There were several nods.

Fenxain turned around, frustrated, and left the bar.

The Young Master wanted his prize quickly, and Gen Fenxian never disappointed!

============================

“What was that about?” An Ran asked curiously.

The woman wiped her hand over her face and down to her exposed cleavage. Her features became decidedly more masculine and the smooth flesh became dumplings. Yun Ren pulled the meatbun out of his shirt. The skit had been going so well too.

“I have no idea.” He muttered. “But I don’t think he was here for a good time. Thanks for the cover, Yang.” he said to the Young Master of the Framed Sun Sect.

“Anything for the Image Master.” Yang said cheerily. “Shrouded Mountain Sect bastards throwing their weight around…” he muttered

Yun Ren shook his head. There was something fishy about this. Alarm bells were blaring in his head. Somebody was looking for people with this kind of shirt? “...this doesn’t sit right with me. I’m going to go find Gou and Tigu.”

His brother first. Tigu could take care of herself.

He turned and headed towards the window.

The door to the pub opened again. The man, Fenxian, swaggered in, with what he probably assumed was a dashing smile on his face.

“Actually, pretty sister, you should come with me. This brother will ensure he returns your money—”

The smile fell off his face. The man gaped at Yun Ren, his finger pointing directly at him.

The streets suddenly shook with the peal of thunder.

Yun Ren clapped his hands together. A searing flash of light burst from his hands and sent the man recoiling. As Fennxian staggered blindly, Yun Ren dove out the window.

Fenxian roared with fury.

===============================

Xiulan had five people chasing her. Five disciples of the Shrouded Mountain Sect who were either at the fifth stage of the Initiate’s Realm, or into the Profound. From what Ri Zu had reported earlier and with the number of people present, it seemed like the dungeon guard had abandoned his post. Her swords spun around and fired backwards, providing distractions and forcing her opponents to block or dodge. Each blow goaded them to chase her all the more, if only to repay her for the cuts they received as she committed multiple swords to her assaults.

Through it all she never moved in a fully straight line. She used the roofs and alleyways of the empty manors to block their vision, and then had swords strike up from wherever she landed, harrying her pursuers.

Some of the blades were blasted out of the air with lightning, or were swept up in Zang Li’s blazing aura, getting too far away from her and igniting into their own funeral pyres.

Her opponents were fast. Zang Li was in the middle of the pack, but his breathing was hard and he seemed to be having trouble controlling his Qi. Ri Zu had done something to the poison Senior Sister had given her. She said it would act faster and be harder to remove— She risked a glance backwards. Zang Li threw something into his mouth and bit down on it in frustration, but that didn’t seem to provide any relief.

The fact that he was still after her was testament to his profound constitution. Ri Zu could paralyze Tigu with a few drops in a cup of tea. Whatever was going on in Zang Li’s body, it had slowed, but not stopped him.

“Cut her off!” She heard the shout from Zang Li ring out.

[Thunderous Steps]

With a crack-boom of displaced air one man leapt forward like a bolt of lightning, his body transitioning to golden light—for all of twenty steps. His eyes widened as he stopped much earlier than he obviously meant to over an alley. His momentum carried him forward, but he started to drop. His foot caught on the roof and he went spiraling off, slamming into the ground. To his credit, he immediately kicked to his feet, scrambling to resume the chase.

“The air here is interfering with the propagation.” The man leapt up onto the roof nearby and yelled out. “I require adjustment.”

“This fucking province.” she heard the response from another.

Xiulan kicked up a roof tile and threw it backwards. It shattered, as one of her pursuers punched it out of the air.

She launched herself down into an old, abandoned set of stone buildings. It was a small village just outside the town, flipping past another bolt of lightning. It was an ancient warren of stone and collapsed buildings, underground passages and dead ends. Decrepit, crumbling, and abandoned.

The perfect spot to drag in and slow down her pursuers.

They were lost in their hunt, baying like hounds, and just rushing headlong after her. Exactly as she intended. They were running directly into an ambush.

Her plan was simple. Cause a big enough distraction, do enough injury to get people chasing her, and run.

Xiulan had spent three months in a brutal guerilla conflict with Sun Ken before she finally managed to corner him and force him into open battle.

She had learned those lessons well. It may have been dishonourable to ambush, and retreat, but Xiulan had little care for honour today.

Xuilan had no intention of dying or being taken.

She raced around the twists and turns, her swords flying off in a dizzying array of patterns. She sacrificed ten, feeling the drain on her Qi as Zang Li burned them all, but the brief moment they blocked her pursuers' vision was all she needed.

Xiulan reached into her pack, pulling out one of the bottles Ri Zu had given her. The rat had kept the last of Senior Sister’s family recipe, just in case. None of her other concoctions were as powerful or debilitating, but they did act quickly.

Ri Zu had given her three vials. She grabbed the first one she laid hands on and emptied it onto her sword.